Whatever Mr Stark Requires
by babies-stole-my-dingo
Summary: Tony comes back from a different sort of mission in Afghanistan, a different sort of broken. Pepper has to try to put him back together. Oneshot. Er. Twoshot. Sort of.
1. Version One: Pepper's POV

**Title:** Whatever Mr. Stark Requires  
**Author:** babies stole my dingo (agilebrit)  
**Fandom:** Iron Man (movieverse)  
**Rating:** PG for one mildly naughty word  
**Length:** Short story (about 1200 words)  
**Disclaimer:** Marvel owns these characters; I am but a lowly follower. I make no money from any of this, so please don't sue me.  
**Feedback:** Concrit adored! If you see something that can be improved upon, please let me know, even if it's only a typo.  
**Written for:** Just me. Damn plot bunnies.  
**Notes:** Tony comes back from a different sort of mission in Afghanistan, a different sort of broken. Pepper has to try to put him back together.  


* * *

"Miss Potts? Mr. Stark has arrived."

Pepper breathed a sigh of relief and shut off CNN, where the current live coverage was the earthquake in Afghanistan and the frantic search for survivors, in which Iron Man figured prominently. Another section of mountain had collapsed, right before the red and gold suit had disappeared from the scene. Jarvis had let her know right away that Tony wasn't under the rubble, but she still wanted to _see_ him. "Thank you, Jarvis. Is he all right?"

Jarvis paused, and Pepper's stomach clenched. "He is...physically unharmed."

She closed her eyes in momentary relief, but one side of her mouth turned down as she headed into the workshop. He'd been gone for two days... She found Tony standing there in the sweats and tank she'd laid out for him, every line in his body radiating exhaustion, a scotch in his hand. Yeah. It had been bad. She shook her head and decided to be brisk. "Upstairs and into the shower. The suit's made of iron, Tony, not you."

"Gold-titanium alloy," he corrected automatically. "Yes, ma'am." He stumbled a little going up the stairs, but didn't spill a drop of his drink, she noted. They stopped outside his bedroom, and he leaned on the doorframe. Fatigue wasn't the only problem; she could see that now that she was closer to him. Anger warred with despair on his face, and she thought the despair might be winning.

Pepper frowned a little with concern, but it was two in the morning and long past time any reasonable person would have expected her to go home. Not that Tony Stark knew the definition of the word "reasonable." She took refuge in the usual. "Will that be all, Mr.--"

His expression stopped her in her tracks. Now he just looked lost, and the raw _need_ in his eyes felt like a physical blow. "Please don't go, Pepper," he whispered.

_Whatever Mr. Stark requires._ She wasn't his therapist. Although he could certainly use one.

_I don't have anyone but you._ "Tony...will you at least talk to me about it?"

He nodded, once. "I can do that. I think."

She poked him in the shoulder, and wondered if she was crossing the line between employer/employee propriety. Considering the fact that she'd cleaned his blood off more than once, she didn't think so. At least this time she wouldn't need to do that. "Shower, first. You'll feel better."

He tried on a roguish look. It didn't fit. "Join me there?"

"In your dreams. Mr. Stark." She tried on a severe look. It didn't fit either.

"Wait for me in here, then?"

"In your bedroom?" Her eyebrows crawled up her forehead. Tony half-shrugged and turned to go into the bathroom, sipping his drink. When had he gotten so good at the kicked-puppy look? At least that one fit.

Okay.

But she certainly wasn't going to stay in these clothes. The notion of slipping into something more comfortable had never been so appealing after a long day in her power suit. Pepper hunted through his dresser drawers and found some sweats and a t-shirt, both of which swallowed her. She settled on top of the covers against the headboard to wait for... "My boss," she reminded herself.

Who came out of the bathroom a few minutes later rubbing a towel through his hair. At least he wasn't naked, although she wouldn't have put it past him; he'd put the sweats and tank back on, which had been clean in any case. He sat on the edge of the bed opposite her, dropping the towel on the floor and running his hand across his beard. Set his empty glass on the bedside table. Not facing her.

Pepper tried to make a joke. "You know, Tony, if you wanted me in your bed, there are easier ways."

He turned around at this. "Really?"

She considered. "Well. No."

One side of his mouth turned up. It looked horribly forced. "Technically, you're on the bed instead of in it anyway." She patted the spot next to her, and he moved, grabbing a pillow and putting it behind his back. Not touching her. He leaned his head against the headboard and closed his eyes. Hands at his sides. Fingers twitching.

"What happened over there?" she asked.

"It was bad." Silence for seconds that slipped into minutes. "Seems like the whole mountain fell down on that little village." Another long pause. "We found one survivor. One. And that was at the beginning of the rescue operation." He barked out a humorless laugh, still with his eyes closed, still facing the ceiling. "No, I take that back. We heard a kid crying. Bunches of us frantically digging, took an hour to get to it, even with the suit. And it turns out it was an actual kid. A baby goat. They probably ate it later."

Oh, Tony, Pepper didn't say. What could she say? She reached a hand out, put it back down. This wasn't something she was good at. Not something either of them were good at.

"But that wasn't the worst of it." Finally, finally, he turned his head and looked at her. Took a deep breath, let it out. Closed his eyes again, and she could tell this was going to hurt. "I was digging down into a house. And I found two people crushed under the rubble. Looked like a mom and her little girl. And then--" He stopped. Swallowed. Clenched his fist and his jaw. "I found some of my weapons stashed in the back."

Pepper closed her own eyes. No wonder he'd looked so shattered. "Oh, Tony." She reached out. Stroked his bicep with the backs of her fingers.

Found herself with an armful of Tony Stark. His head was on her shoulder, his arm wrapped around her waist and holding on like he'd drown if he let go. Shaking.

For a second, she froze. The professional part of her screamed that this was incredibly inappropriate. And the human part of her knew he needed this, needed someone to talk to besides Jarvis and Butterfingers and Dummy, needed a connection to _people_ or he'd go crazy.

_Whatever Mr. Stark requires._

So she hugged him. Fiercely. She wasn't going to whisper platitudes like "It's okay" at him, because it wasn't okay, he wouldn't be okay until his weapons were back where they belonged or destroyed, hell, he might never be okay again. But she could give him basic touch, contact, which he sorely lacked, and had been lacking for...

A really long time. She wondered if he'd ever had enough, if the womanizing had been some sort of compensatory mechanism. Decided it probably was.

Pepper dropped a gentle kiss to his still-damp hair, rested her cheek on top of his head. Held him until the shaking stopped, and his breathing told her that he'd fallen into an exhausted sleep. She scooched them downwards, pulled the comforter up and over him. "Jarvis?" she said softly.

"Yes, Miss Potts?" The AI's voice was just as soft.

"Don't wake us up in the morning."

"Yes, Miss Potts."

She should do this for him more often. She mentally added it to her job description before dropping off to sleep herself.

_end_


	2. Version One Point Five: Tony's POV

**A/N: **Yeah, yeah, I know, I said it was "complete" before. And it was. Until Tony popped up and said, "What about writing this from my point of view? Because you love me, right?" And, well, I can't say no to him (who can?), and this is what came out. It's basically (exactly) the same story, only with a thing at the start and a thing at the end that sort of tie it all together, and is, as I said, Tony's POV rather than Pepper's. A ver 1.5, if you will. Anyway. Onward:

* * *

"Mr. Stark, I really must insist," Jarvis said. "The human frame is not designed to take this sort of punishment."

Over forty hours looking for survivors in an Afghanistan earthquake had taken its toll on Tony, even in the suit. The tiny village had been so hard hit that no survivors had been found other than right at the beginning. Coming across body after body had added to the overall hopelessness--even the search dogs were getting depressed. "All right, Jarvis. Last one."

"As you say, sir." The AI sounded disgruntled.

With the help of some villagers, he started moving rubble aside from the next house in the row. They came across a mother and daughter, crushed together by a beam, and Tony clenched his jaw and kept going. "Hello? Anyone here? Anyone?"

He cleared a doorway into the next room and stopped short. "Oh, hell no. You have got to be kidding me." He spun on his heel. "Out! All of you, get out, and move everyone away from this house. Far away." Jarvis translated for him, and the people got out, gabbling amongst themselves.

After he was sure everyone was a safe distance back, Tony used his repulsors to drop the rest of the mountain on the house, and flew home.

:-:

Pepper had considerately left some clean sweats and a tank out for him in the shop, and he threw them on after the 'bots got him out of the suit. Shambling over to his sideboard, he poured himself five fingers of scotch, neat, and downed it in two swallows.

It didn't make him feel better. He poured another.

Pepper found him with the half-empty glass in his hand and shook her head. "Upstairs and into the shower. The suit's made of iron, Tony, not you."

"Gold-titanium alloy," he corrected automatically. "Yes, ma'am." He stumbled a little, going up the stairs, but long experience had steadied his drink hand, and he didn't spill any. They stopped outside his bedroom, and he let the doorframe hold him up. He was exhausted, pissed off, and upset, and he really didn't want to be alone right now.

"Will that be all, Mr.--" Must have been something in his face that stopped Pepper in her tracks. He knew he looked like death warmed over. Felt like it too.

Felt lost. She was all he had, and she was leaving. "Please don't go, Pepper," he whispered.

Her expression was...resigned? "Tony...will you at least talk to me about it?"

He wasn't sure he could, really, but Jarvis for his only company tonight wouldn't cut it. He nodded, once. "I can do that. I think."

She poked him in the shoulder, which ached. As did his entire body. The scotch wasn't helping in that department, or any other. "Shower, first. You'll feel better," she said.

He tried on a roguish look. It didn't fit. "Join me there?"

"In your dreams. Mr. Stark." She tried on a severe look. It didn't fit either. She just seemed worried.

After the two days he'd just had, he didn't want to spend the night on the couch, or in a guest room. "Wait for me in here, then?"

"In your bedroom?" Her eyebrows crawled up her forehead. Tony half-shrugged and turned to go into the bathroom, sipping his drink, counting on her to follow, not turning around to see if she did.

He shut the bathroom door and put his drink on the counter, telling Jarvis to set the shower temp to a hundred and five and turn the head to the massager. He stripped and stepped into the oversized stall, letting the hot water pound away at his sore muscles for a few minutes before soaping down and rinsing off with ruthless efficiency. Taking refuge in normality.

Normality stopped when he came out of the shower and saw his scotch sitting next to the sink. He dried off before picking it up and draining it, because it wouldn't do to have the glass slip out of his wet hand and shatter all over the tiles. He eyed the clothes he'd left in a heap on the floor, debated just going out naked, decided Pepper probably wouldn't like that much and he was pushing her as it was.

His teeth felt disgusting, so he brushed them, again taking refuge in the normal. His hair still dripped, and he grabbed a hand towel and rubbed his head, picking up the empty glass and walking out into the bedroom.

Pepper sat propped against the headboard, twisting her fingers together. She'd changed into...his clothes, sweatpants and a tee that were several sizes too big. Well, of course she had. He hadn't expected her to stay dressed as she was. He seated himself on the edge of the bed, dropping the towel on the carpet and setting the glass on the bedside table. He wasn't ready to face her yet.

"You know, Tony, if you wanted me in your bed, there are easier ways."

He tilted his head, turned around. "Really?"

She considered. "Well. No."

His lips twisted into a half-grin. It felt horribly forced. "Technically, you're on the bed instead of in it anyway." She patted the spot next to her, and he moved, grabbing a pillow and putting it behind his back. He leaned his head against the headboard and closed his eyes, hands at his sides. His fingers twitched of their own accord.

"What happened over there?" she asked quietly.

"It was bad." She knew that already. Idiot. He lapsed into a few seconds of silence that stretched into minutes. "Seems like the whole mountain fell down on that little village." He stopped again, wishing for more scotch to scrub the experience from his brain. "We found one survivor. One. And that was at the beginning of the rescue operation." He barked out a humorless laugh, still with his eyes closed, still facing the ceiling, still unable to look at her. "No, I take that back. We heard a kid crying. Bunches of us frantically digging, took an hour to get to it, even with the suit. And it turns out it was an actual kid. A baby goat. They probably ate it later." No probablies, they had. He'd smelled it cooking. Didn't want to tell Pepper that, though.

She didn't say anything. What was there to say, anyway? He was still processing it himself, and he was a genius, and he'd been there.

"But that wasn't the worst of it." He turned his head and looked at her. Took a deep breath, let it out. Closed his eyes again, because this hurt and she had enough sorrow on her face now for both of them. "I was digging down into a house. And I found two people crushed under the rubble. Looked like a mom and her little girl. And then--" He stopped and swallowed and clenched his fist and his jaw. "I found some of my weapons stashed in the back."

"Oh, Tony." The backs of her fingers brushed his bicep, and just like that he was undone. He curled into her, wrapped his arm around her waist, put his head on her shoulder. He knew he was shaking, was powerless to stop it. His personal demons came out of the woodwork, gibbering at him that no matter what he did it would never be enough; he'd opened the bottle and let Hell loose on Earth and stuffing it back in was out of the question. He wasn't crying--he hadn't done that since Yinsen--but the rage that kept him going was losing way to despair, and a part of him wondered, fleetingly, how close he was to cracking wide open and going completely barking mad.

Pepper froze for the briefest moment, long enough for him to think _Oh crap now I've done it_, but then her own arms enfolded him, and who knew that a woman who looked so slender and fragile could be so strong? Something in the back of his mind said that it wasn't fair of him to feed from her strength like this, that it had to be taking some sort of toll on her, that he was supposed to be the strong one. But she always knew what he needed and provided it without question.

So, he lay in her arms, letting his guardian angel beat back his demons just by being there. She knew not to whisper platitudes like "It's okay," because it certainly wasn't okay, and she was a terrible liar anyway, which was why he'd hired her. But she kissed his hair, which was new, and laid her cheek on top of his head, which was nice, and sleep tumbled him over like a tidal wave and took him down because he was safe here with her and always would be.

:-:

He woke up the next day with Pepper's back spooned against his chest, her hair in his nose, his hand on her waist, and his leg thrown over her hip. For a second he couldn't remember what happened, then it all came crashing back, and for once in his life he didn't have any words for how grateful he was. He made a mental note to give her a well-deserved raise; putting him back together after he fell apart like this wasn't in her job description.

"Thank you," he murmured into the back of her neck. That would have to do.

She rolled onto her back, turned her head toward him, searching his face for...something. A tiny frown creased the space between her eyebrows. "Better?"

"Better," he said, resting his forehead on her shoulder and closing his eyes. "Not perfect, but it'll work for now."

Something about her relaxed, and he hadn't even realized she was tense. "Okay. Jarvis, what time is it?"

"Three-fourteen PM, Miss Potts."

It was almost scary how she switched gears into Work Mode. "Right. Well, I'm long overdue to start sorting out the day's schedule." She used one finger to tilt his chin up. "Will that be all, Mr. Stark?"

He thought about kissing her, because damn if she didn't look kissable right then, but he knew she'd swat him if he did, so why spoil a good thing? Instead, he gave her a lazy, half-wistful smile. "That will be all, Miss Potts."

_end_


End file.
